


Maybe It's Just the Poison Talking?

by TheShipSailsItself



Series: Charmed Reboot Whumptober 2019 [3]
Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Delirium, F/M, Whumptober 2019, accidental confessions, delirious confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-23 00:02:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20882849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShipSailsItself/pseuds/TheShipSailsItself
Summary: Whumptober 2019 Prompt No. 3: Delirium





	Maybe It's Just the Poison Talking?

Harry wrenches himself away from the icy hands gripping at his chest and shoulders. He hears the sound of ice or glass or maybe even both breaking all around him. He moans as the sharp noise of it all peals like a thousand brass bells in his pounding head. He tries to open his eyes, get his bearings, find a way to get to up and get away. But no part of his body seems keen on responding. The hands find him again. He struggles and begs his body to obey but finds himself utterly helpless. Something more than the immense strength of those hands is holding him down. He is frozen and so very, very far away from charges here in this wintry hell. 

Harry can feel his tears running frigid tracks down into his hair. If he can’t find a way to free himself he won’t reach them in time. He is going to fail his charges. Again. A sob rips its way out his burning throat and he sends up a prayer, a wish, an invocation to whatever might be listening to give him one more chance to keep his family safe. To let them know how much needs them, loves them.

“…and Macy. She has to know- Please, I have to- I need to find her. _Macy._”

The pressure on his shoulders and legs eases but still he is unable to move. Near his head he can just make out strangely staccato sound of rushing of water. It’s almost soothing. Even stranger still, Harry thinks he can just make out the scent of her in the bitingly frigid air. It’s impossible but the heady notes of shea butter and gardenias that grace her skin (and that he has no business knowing but could identify in a heartbeat) fills his lungs as he drags in a ragged breath. Another sob breaks out of him. She must be nearby.

“_Please_. Let me go to her.”

-

Macy’s sisters looked at her, their dark eyes large with questions. But Macy only gave a stern shake of her head. Now wasn’t the time to explain whatever it was that had been brewing between the herself and the man thrashing about on her bed even if she could put it into coherent words. But that would have to wait until later, both the untangling of Harry’s feeling and her own and the inevitable disclosure to her sisters, her fellow Charmed Ones.

Macy grunted as Harry jerked away from her grip. She always forgot how strong their deceptively slender Whitelighter was despite the numerous times she’d seen him grapple hand-to-hand with actual demons. She reformed the image of her powers as a thin, cotton bed sheet and once again tucked it around Harry’s legs and arms, taking care not to bind him too tightly. He stilled and Macy blew out a long breath as she settled in to hold him still as her sisters applied the antidote once again.

_Oh, you had better get better quick, Harry Greenwood. Because I am not going to be explaining this to my sisters alone._


End file.
